by Kate Morris
“Do you ride?” she asked the woman.
“I used to. Our daughters ride now. They both do shows and jumping,” she answered and offered coffee, to which they both declined.
There was also an inground swimming pool that was covered with a trampoline-style winter cover.
“I’m sorry,” the wife apologized. “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t get going.”
“Where do you work?” Lorena pried.
“Oh, I’m an E.R. physician over at Providence Hospital. I work on rotations. Sometimes I don’t know which end is up.”
She was wearing green scrubs and had her hair tied back in a smooth ponytail. Her appearance was professional and neat. She didn’t look like she’d been missing sleep working a hectic swing shift at a hospital, but Lorena knew how hard those E.R. doctors worked. It was no picnic.
“That’s kind of a long drive to get back to town,” Lorena said.
“Basil likes living out here. So do the girls. To tell you the truth, I’d be happy living two blocks from work, but I guess that’s not fair to them. It was nice meeting you.”
She excused herself, and they were left to wait for her husband. Lorena perused the family pictures on the piano, the walls, and bookshelves. They seemed perfect, happy in every photo. She knew this wasn’t always the case, though. Some monsters wore their masks all year round, not just on Halloween. Trix’s mask was his attempt at appearing normal. His true self was vile, contemptible, and deserving of a life in prison.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting!” a man announced as he entered the room.
His Serbian accent was thick, and he wore gray dress slacks, a cream-colored sweater, and eyeglasses. He was a handsome man, and Lorena wondered if this appearance was his mask.
“We just have a few questions for you, sir,” she said and took a seat on a sofa when he offered it. Jack stood near the doorway again.
“I’m happy to help. The agent I spoke to on the phone said it was about Hailee Neumann? So terrible. We saw on the news that she’s missing. I’ve called her number and her step-mother’s phone quite a few times without getting an answer. I didn’t know what was going on with her. She never missed lessons. Her step-mother always drove her here. I knew something must be wrong because she never misses a lesson. Then we saw it on the news.”
“And you’ve been teaching her since she moved to Portland from California?” Lorena asked.
“Yes, she’s very talented.”
He sat back, relaxed his posture and crossed one foot over the opposite knee.
“And you met once a week for these lessons?” she asked. He nodded. “Here or did you go to her house, too?”
“No, never. My students come to me,” he said. “She said she was used to that. Her teacher in California was the same.”
“Did Hailee ever talk about her personal life with you?”
He adjusted his pants leg down by the ankle. It was a fidget. There was nothing wrong with his pants. He didn’t want to answer the question.
She tried to reassure him, but Lorena also wanted to know more, “Nothing you tell me has to leave this room. This is strictly confidential.”
He nodded and offered a slight grimace, “Hailee was a quiet girl, very kind and considerate. She talked about her little brother sometimes. He’s a half-brother. Her father remarried after her mother died. So sad.”
“Yes, I’m sure it was very difficult for her. Did you teach her before they moved away to California?”
“No, I believe she used to take lessons from a man named Wadsworth. I think he may have passed away. I think I remember her telling me that was the reason her father found me to give her lessons when they moved back here. It didn’t matter. She’s very talented. One of those students who excelled at music. She even wrote her own.”
“Is that so? Sounds hard to do,” Lorena said, picking his brain.
“Not really. She has an ear for it. I think she could’ve had an auspicious career in music someday.”
She also noticed that he kept referring to Hailee in the past tense as if she were already dead. According to Trix, she wasn’t.
Lorena asked, “Mr. Kovak, did Hailee ever talk to you about being abused? Did you suspect anything of that nature was going on in her life?”
He pulled at his pants leg again before answering, “Not really. But…”
“But what?”
“I did see bruises on her. Sometimes she’d take off her sweater if she was wearing something too constricting or hot. I did see bruises on her upper arms a few times. I don’t know. I may be confusing the situation, though. I don’t want to accuse someone of anything.”
“Did she ever mention her boyfriend?”
“She did.”
He didn’t expound on this, so Lorena prompted him because Kovak did not seem pleased with her for having this boyfriend. He sneered when he admitted to knowing about him. “What about him? Did she tell you much?”
“Not really, just that her father would not approve. She asked me not to tell him.”
“Did you?”
“No, I didn’t, but if she were my daughter, I’d want to know. I wouldn’t tolerate sneaking around like that. It’s inappropriate for a young woman to go sleeping around with boys from the wrong neighborhoods.”
He seemed overly upset about it. “How do you know she was sleeping with him?”
“Oh, I know. It wasn’t very difficult to guess. Young girls like her always fall victim to charming, troublemaking boys.”
“Right,” Lorena agreed with him to gain his trust. “Did she talk to you about going to college in the fall?”
“Yes, Brown, I believe. It’s a good school, but I think she could’ve done better by sticking to a music school. I’m sure she could’ve won a scholarship. Such a waste.”
Again, his attitude seemed judgmental, overly so. He seemed to be growing angrier by the minute just talking about Hailee.
“Sir, do you know a young woman by the name of Allie Xiang?” Lorena hit him with. She had to know. She wanted to ask it out of order to throw him off.
“Uh…” he stammered. “Allie. Yes, she was a student. It’s been quite a while since I saw her, though.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“A few years at least. She was going through a bad phase. Then she just dropped off my student list.”
“What do you mean by ‘bad phase,’?”
“Same as Hailee, actually. Hanging out with the wrong types, sleeping around. These young girls, they get themselves into trouble. Too much freedom.”
His eyes glazed over slightly as he thought about Allie and who knew what else and who else. Lorena was starting to wonder if she was talking to their killer. He knew both girls- one was missing, the other dead. Although he didn’t live as remotely as he’d need to in order to kidnap and kill women, he could possibly have somewhere else where he was taking them. And he was kidnapping and keeping more than one at a time. It had to be somewhere where no one else lived. It certainly wasn’t the modern, glass-encased home she was in now. She needed more proof.
“You don’t think she should’ve been hanging out with boys? Is that what you mean?” Lorena asked and rose to wander around the room. She glanced over her shoulder to see him tracking her movement with his dark eyes.
“No, Allie was a beautiful, talented, young lady. She wasted her gift, her musical talents and gave it all up for drugs and a life of prostitution.”
This grabbed her attention, but she remained cool. “Did you know that Allie was living as a homeless person at the end of her life?”
“No, but that wouldn’t surprise me.”
“And she was working at a strip club right before that?”
“Yes, I know.”
“How did you know that?”
He paused, and Lorena turned to look at him. “I must’ve seen it on the news when they talked about her unfortunate demise.”
“But you also said that she wa
s a prostitute,” Lorena said.
His eyes narrowed.
“How do you know she was prostituting herself, as well?”
He raised his chin a notch and swallowed hard. “I suppose it was speculation. Or maybe they said that on the news.”
“They don’t normally report things like that in case the victim has a family.”
“Then I guess I just assumed.”
“You said she gave up her music for drugs and prostitution. I assumed you knew that for sure.”
He shook his head.
“Did you ever visit the gentlemen’s club where she worked?”
“Of course not.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
He sighed as if he found her annoying. “Because I don’t go to places like that.”
“Most men do. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, actually.”
“Well, I think those places are disgusting. I would never set foot in one.”
“Devoted family man, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am. My family, I place above all others.”
“Had you ever gone to Hailee’s home? Her step-mother was big in the arts community, held lots of fundraisers for the arts and all that. Ever attend one?”
“Yes, my wife and I went to two such events.”
“Ever meet anyone there who struck you as behaving oddly toward Hailee?” she asked, although at this point she was more concerned about Basil Kovak than any of Elizabeth Neumann’s art donors.
“Hailee was a lovely young woman. She attracted men. She looked older than she was, especially after her braces came off.”
“Yes,” Lorena said with a light chuckle. “That usually helps. Plus, her teeth would’ve looked nice and straight, perfect.”
There was so much going through her mind at such a pace that Lorena felt a little dizzy. The cold medicine she took a few minutes ago wasn’t helping.
“Yes, I’m sure the orthodontist took her picture for his wall of fame if he had one.”
“Perfect teeth are important in life.”
He frowned and said, “Yes, but I wouldn’t know. I didn’t grow up in a life of privilege before I came here. My family was very poor. It was my own musical talent that afforded me a scholarship to Juilliard.”
Lorena looked at one of the pictures of his daughters, both smiling broadly for the camera.
“Looks like straight teeth are important; your eldest is in braces,” Lorena noticed.
“Yes, absolutely. I want her to have nice teeth. Your smile is important, the first thing people…why all the questions about good hygiene?”
“Your daughters go to private school?”
“Yes, Heritage Christian in the city. We drive them every day. It’s worth it. Education is important to both my wife and me.”
“I think Hailee Neumann also goes there.”
“Yes, I believe she does,” he said with a nod.
Lorena was starting to smell smoke. She knew where there was smoke meant there was a fire close by. His daughters went to the same school as Hailee.
“How long have you lived in America, Mr. Kovak?”
“Sixteen years.”
Long enough to have committed all of the murders they had linked to Trix.
“How’d you meet your wife?”
“I was performing with an orchestra while she was still in medical school. She came to a concert and the gala afterward where patrons can meet the musicians.”
Something pinged in her brain, “Where did she go to medical school?”
“Florida.”
She felt as if she were going to pass out. This was too much.
“And you were playing in an orchestra there?”
“No, New York,” he said, deflating her theory. “She was there visiting her family in the city.”
“And you hit it off?” she asked and got a nod. “And did she move to New York then?”
“No, I moved to Florida so that she could finish school.”
Again, there was the spark.
“I don’t know why you’re asking me so many questions about my personal life. Am I a suspect in this case, Detective? Because the agent on the phone said that he thought I could help your case because I might know something about Hailee.”
“Do you?”
Lorena stood with her back to the fireplace, her arms crossed.
“Nothing more than what we’ve discussed tonight,” he said.
“Did you also attend college in Florida?”
“No, I already told you. I went to Juilliard.”
She paused and thought for a moment, “How did you come to live out here on the west coast?”
“My wife’s work. She did not wish to live in New York City like her father, who is the chief attending at a hospital there. She wanted…room to grow on her own.”
“She’s a very strong, liberated woman then.”
“Yes, she is. I’m very proud of her.”
Lorena stared him down. He was a soft-spoken, mild-mannered man who dressed nicely and seemed to be family oriented. Every trigger in her brain kept flashing a warning that he was lying about something, hiding something. Did he have a dark side he kept hidden from even his wife?
“Where were you the night of Hailee’s disappearance, sir?” she asked, giving him the day of the week and the exact date. She even added the time.
“I would have to consult with my planner,” he said, rising and going toward the piano.
“Of course, please do.”
A young woman walked into the room a moment later and stated, “Oh, sir! So sorry. I come back.”
“Who are you?” Lorena asked directly. The girl looked about nineteen or twenty, blonde, thin, very pretty and had a thicker accent than her boss.
“Mr. Kovak’s nanny to the girls.”
He said, “My wife works a lot. I’m also gone giving lessons or working with the Symphony.”
“You give lessons here, though,” Lorena interrupted him. “You said you don’t give lessons elsewhere.”
“I meant that. I give lessons here, but I do not like to be interrupted by the girls. They are only nine and eleven. They don’t yet know not to bother me when I’m working with a student.”
Lorena didn’t buy it but nodded as the girl left the room. “Find the date in your planner?”
She casually walked closer and peered over his shoulder. He didn’t attempt to hide his schedule from her, but she could tell that he didn’t like her prying, either.
“Yes, here it is. I was teaching until around seven p.m.,” he stated and tipped it to show her.
“And before that? What is it that you do during the day when your children are in school and before your students get released from school to come here for music lessons?”
He looked uncomfortable. He adjusted his eyeglasses, which were tortoiseshell and looked expensive. It also made him appear scholarly. She wondered if anything about him was genuine. The top corner of his upper lip curled just slightly as if he found her annoying. Good. Lorena wanted to ruffle his feathers a bit.
“I told you. I work for the Symphony here in Portland. I also work with underprivileged kids in the city teaching them music once a week at the community center.”
“It doesn’t say what you did before five p.m. that day on the planner. Do you know? Were you in the city working with…I’m assuming teenagers?”
“No, I always work with the kids on Mondays right after school lets out. The bus brings them to the community center to be dropped off.”
“So, on this Wednesday then, you would safely say that you weren’t working with the underprivileged youth. What were you doing?”
“Probably at the hall doing a rehearsal. We have a big spring show and then also the big summer concert coming up.”
“Sounds like a busy time for you,” she said with a false smile.
“Exceedingly.”
“Do you own other property, Mr. Kovak?”
His eyes narrowed for the briefest
of seconds before saying, “No. My wife and I only own this home. Trust me, it’s more than enough. Too much sometimes.”
“Yes, it’s a lovely home. Well, that about wraps up our interview. Can I leave my phone number in case you think of something else?” Lorena paused and looked up at him to catch his reaction. “Or do you already have it?”
There was a slight flicker, a wince before he recovered again.
“No, I think the agent who called to ask for this meeting left me his number, but I don’t have yours yet. That would be helpful.”
“Great, thanks,” she said and followed Jack from the room. He stopped and let her go before him. She wondered if Jack felt as if they were unsafe walking out of the room with their backs to him. When they got to the car, Lorena immediately called Craig to give him the update on Kovak. Then they pulled away and headed back toward town.
“Other than a very large stash of barely legal porn, the Italian art dealer’s house in Vancouver, Washington, came back clean. He has a storage unit in Portland. Also, clean,” Lorena told Jack when she was done with her call and gave her partner the information relayed by Craig.
“After our interview with Kovak, I’m leaning toward him as our new number one suspect.”
“What about Archibald?”
Jack sighed, “Maybe it’s a tie for first place between the music teacher and Archibald.”
“The music teacher knew Allie Xiang, was her teacher, as well. We have a man that has a very loose schedule who knew both girls very well. I also don’t like that he kept referring to Hailee in the past tense. There’s something up with this guy.”
“He stinks to high heaven, you mean?”
“Craig’s going to start running checks and digging on him. In my opinion, if he has property anywhere else or a storage unit or something, he’s moving into first position.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Did you get a vibe from him, Jack?” she asked, which drew his attention away from the road for a second. She didn’t normally use his first name. They tried to keep things strictly professional.
“I think he was hiding something. I don’t know what, but he seemed…evasive.”
“Evasive’s never good,” she said.
“Nope, not good.”
His phone rang, so he hit the speaker. It must’ve been either Craig calling back already or one of his four sisters.